Ginger And The Wolf

CHAPTER 4

Together, the sisters managed to drag Triana’s body to the basement, where a freezer sat, its cold steel surface a stark contrast to the warmth of the house. Ginger’s eyes flashed with something dark as they hoisted Triana’s body into the freezer. For a moment, Golden couldn’t look away from the lifeless figure of the Triana who had been so determined to accuse them.

“She won’t be found,” Ginger murmured, almost to herself. “Not if we’re careful.”

But Golden wasn’t listening. Her mind was focused on something else — the blood on her hands. Not literal blood, but the weight of the decision. Triana was dead. And they had caused it.

“We need to bury her,” Golden said softly, her voice distant. “Before anyone finds out.”

Ginger nodded, her expression cold. “We will.”

It was only when they were hauling Triana’s body out of the freezer the next day that disaster struck again. Golden was careless as she tried to maneuver the corpse into the back of the car, and in the process, her hand slipped. The fingers of Triana’s left hand broke off, snapping with a sickening crunch. Golden froze, staring at the severed digits on the ground before she quickly scooped them up, hiding them in her jacket.

“We have to fix this,” Golden whispered. “We need to bury her, right now.”

But Ginger didn’t answer. She was too busy staring at the fingers, a flicker of something almost amused in her eyes. “Well, that’s a new problem.”

Golden didn’t have time to argue. They couldn’t afford to waste another second.

Later that day, Golden found herself in the lab with John, who was working on the final stages of the extract from the monkshood plant. It was the only thing they had left — the only way to fight back against the infection that was spreading so rapidly. Golden had seen firsthand how it turned people into ravenous monsters, their bodies warped and twisted beyond recognition. She had seen it in Kalian, and she was certain it was only a matter of time before someone else turned.

John looked up from his work as Golden entered, his eyes briefly meeting hers. “You’re late,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

“Sorry. Just… had some things to take care of,” Golden said, her thoughts lingering on the frozen body in her basement. She shook her head, trying to clear the image from her mind.

John nodded, not pressing her further. “Well, we’ve got this. I’ve made the extract from the monkshood. It should work if we can get it to the right people in time.”

Golden stepped closer, eyeing the syringe in his hand. “And it works on the infected?”

He hesitated for a moment but then nodded. “It’s not a cure. It’s more like… a stabilizer. It can slow down the process, keep them from completely changing.”

Golden took a deep breath. “Let’s test it.”

John’s brow furrowed. “Test it? On who?”

Golden didn’t answer. She already knew what had to be done.

As if on cue, the door to the lab slammed open. Kalian stumbled inside, his movements jerky and unnatural. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot with the unmistakable signs of infection. Before Golden could react, he lunged at her, his body convulsing as the transformation took hold.

Without thinking, Golden grabbed the syringe, plunging it into Kalian’s arm. The effect was immediate. His body shuddered, and the feverish madness that had consumed him seemed to evaporate. He blinked, his eyes clearing for a moment as if the fog had lifted.

“It worked,” Golden whispered in awe.

But Kalian was already retreating, his body stiffening again as the infection tried to regain control. The transformation was slow this time, but Golden knew it was only temporary.

“I need to get this to Ginger,” she muttered, her voice urgent. “We’re running out of time.”

The Greenhouse Bash came quickly. Golden stood outside the door, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on her. Her mother had driven her here, and the car ride had been silent, tense. But now, standing at the threshold of John’s party, everything was about to change.

Inside, the music was loud, the lights dim, and the atmosphere electric with excitement. But Golden’s eyes were focused on one person: Ginger. She spotted her easily, her sister standing in the corner with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. Ginger hadn’t changed yet, but Golden could feel it — the transformation was coming.

And in that moment, Golden made a choice.

She stepped toward Ginger, her resolve hardening.

“I’m with you,” Golden said, her voice low but firm. “Let’s do this together.”

Ginger met her gaze, a slow smile creeping onto her face. “Good. We’ll burn this place down.”

But as the sisters turned to leave, the door slammed shut behind them, and everything changed. Golden had no idea what would happen next, but one thing was certain: there was no turning back now.

And neither of them ever would again.

Golden’s pulse raced as the van rattled over the uneven dirt road, her eyes fixed on the horizon as the full moon hovered above. The night was thick with unease, a palpable tension that clung to her skin like a heavy cloak. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was coming—and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Beside her, Ginger was breathing erratically, her sharp features twisted in agony as the transformation took hold. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. They had a plan. John had promised they could contain it. But now, with the moon's curse rising higher, it felt as though the universe had other intentions.

Ginger gripped the seat in front of her, her nails digging into the fabric. Her back arched, and the first cracks of bone echoed through the van. Golden recoiled, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Ginger…” Golden whispered, her voice trembling. “Just hold on. We’re almost there.”

But Ginger didn’t hear her. She was already slipping away, consumed by the beast that clawed its way to the surface.

There was a sound—cracking, like branches snapping under the weight of a storm. Golden turned to look at her sister, but Ginger’s eyes were now glowing a feral yellow, her pupils dilated. Her jaw distended, revealing sharp, bloodied teeth.

“No!” Golden screamed. “You need to fight it! Don’t—”

Before she could finish, Ginger lunged forward, her strength magnified by the beast within. The van jerked violently as the door ripped open, the screech of metal protesting as it flew off its hinges. Golden screamed, but Ginger was already gone, leaping into the darkened woods.

Golden sat in the wreckage of the van, staring blankly at the spot where her sister had disappeared. Her mind screamed at her to follow, but her body was frozen, trapped in the web of her fear. John’s voice cut through the haze, brittle and calm.

“Golden. We need to move. Now.”

He was standing at the van’s edge, an emergency medical kit in his hands. John had always been the steady one, the rational one. He was the reason they’d gotten this far, the one who’d promised that there was a cure for Ginger’s affliction. Golden had clung to that hope. But now, watching her sister’s transformation, all that remained was a sinking pit in her stomach.

“Where’s Ginger?” John asked, his face pale.